Один
by Just Another Indonesian Writer
Summary: From the ashes of the Bariura's long forgotten battlefield, two wildly different people will meet, one in search for her reason to continue living, the other seeking an end to his torturous life.
1. Chapter 1

Truth be told, Princess Alisya doesn't know how long has it been since the war started.

Has it only been a few months? A year, perhaps? Maybe even more than a decade?

In the end, it was of no matter to her, she was born... no, _created_ for the sole purpose to obey the Emperor's orders without question nor hesitation, to be a simple tool for the military, and to be a soulless weapon that would only know how to save whatever dignity and pride her Kingdom has - or had, left. And this was true for quite some time. But now, only after the Crown City falls, only after the deaths of countless human lives, and only after the news of the last of the royal family members, her father, her siblings - escaping into another dimension; leaving many others at the mercy of the terrible forces of the Gods, was Alisya woke up from her endless bloodbath.

"_Sister..._"

Was the words that the girl heard when her consciousness returned, the same one that she echoed through her lips immediately after, and somehow, also the same word that continously renews her conviction and determination to search for her. Her sister. Her savior. One that she'd forgotten everything about, one that broke her father's curse on her and gave her life back into her, one that made her able to finally... _feel_. And so, with grim vigor, Alisya took up her scythe and began her endless trek across the desolate continent in search of this sibling. A search for her most important person, a search for her reason to keep on living.

But that was times ago, and the sense of time was already lost on her. For what feels like ages, without pause, she has been marching across the disfigured plains and desecrated battlegrounds. The princess's heart aches for what has happened to her Kingdom. Bariura was once feared and revered to as one of, if not - the mightiest Kingdoms in Grand Gaia, so much so, that the her citizens would proudly boast and pump their chest when faced even against the greatest adversaries, for they are the true protectors of the grand Mount Bari. The Fatherland prided itself on their warriors, providing the leading edge in technology, magic, and fighters that would put other Kingdoms' to shame.

And all of those achievements, gone.

All that's left now were piles of craters dotting the landscape, rusting machines, crumbling magical tomes, and decaying bodies. No matter where she looks, Alisya will now only find abandoned fortresses, once-fortified positions and landfills filled with mountains of corpses - of soldiers and citizens alike, mangled together and left in the open while maggots and vultures alike feasted upon the rotten pile of meat and bones. They were probably intended to be burried in mass graves, but clearly that wasn't the case anymore. To think that even the colossal Red Army would fall under the heels of the Gods, and at such pace too, she shudders to think on what happened to the rest of the continent.

Angry, frustrated, sad. She feels all those things, and more. To think that being broken free of her curse would make her happy for once. Instead, Alisya has to immediately face reality. A reality in which she knows too well, she's helped in creating. The princess has blood on her hands, the blood of her enemies, and the blood of her own countrymen. Her scythe has claimed countless lives of the invading Gods and Demons, but also Bariura's own warriors, the Fatherland's innocent fathers, mothers, children, all just to fuel her insanity and her mad conquest to kill and purge everything in her sight, whilst reaping their souls in the process, imbuing the scythe with even more strength and dark energy. She hates her scythe, hates herself for being too weak to resist the maddening powers of her weapon, and as a result, her own loyal subjects paid the price.

She's been wanting to discard her weapon for such a long time, for the scythe brings back nothing but bad memories of her past, of her father's experiments on her, of her own weakness. But in some twisted irony, she just can't do that, for the soul-absorbing blade has bonded completely with her life energy, as part of the experiments done to her. It is quite literally her source of life. Alisya wouldn't need to feed or drink every few hours, to slowly mend her wounds after every battle, for her scythe would just use its stored souls to heal its master, keep her nourished, and keep her fighting under its influence. It's only due to her sister's interference, that Alisya's own consicousness returned after being eaten by her blade.

The only thing Princess Alisya can do, is to take her mind away and refrain from using her own weapon ever again. She must not waste the chance her sister has given to her, she will have to live for herself.

And so, Alisya Mikhailovna Bariura, the Eighth Princess of the Royal Bariura Family walks.

* * *

It is going to rain again.

Dark clouds have gathered on the horizon, blocking the night sky and plunging the empty lands below into complete darkness, the winds have picked up in its speed and intensity, rustling even the most rooted blades of grass. Alisya can feel the air current grinding uncomfortably against her pale face, her cloak flowing with the stream along with its direction, though it didn't really mind her that much. She welcomes cold breeze for once, they are soothing when compared to the usually damp and dry air of the poluted land, it helps to bring her peace after seeing so much unending death and destruction the Gods had brought upon them.

Still, Alisya needs to find a shelter, as much as she appreciates the feel of rain every once in a while, getting bombarded by sharp needles of water still isn't exactly pleasant to her skin. Her purple eyes dart left and right in search for any structure of tree for her to take refuge in, of course, being in an open ground in the middle of a battlefield isn't doing much to help her case. She can spot a few entrenched positions where part of the Red Army would take their - usually - final stand against the incoming Gods's forces, along with abandoned machinery, tank traps, barbed wires, gun emplacements all lay, wasting away without their human masters.

She approaches the network of hastily dug trenches, once filled with lively soldiers and their commisars barking orders at them, now silent and eerie, with mixtures of dried blood and bones splattered the dirt around them. Some of the soldiers' remains were still seen clutching to their weapons, another one's head bent down to embrace a small child, if she were to guess - no more than a year old, while some other corpses don't even seem to be in uniforms, rather - just clothed in simple rags and torn clothes, in their hands are a mixture of primitive blunt or bladed weapons, blacksmith's hammers, ffarmer's sickles and the such, improvised to deal any kind of damage to the invading enemy.

Some of them are not even soldiers, yet these Bariurans fought to their literal last breath all in service for the Fatherland. The battle also looks recent, their defeat couldn't be more than a few days ago.

The scene was moving, but no less disturbing for the Princess, for as much as she hates almost everything about her warmongering Kingdom, she is still their Princess. She curses herself, damning for not being fast enough in her mindless ventures, she wonders at the possibility of these people surviving had she came a little earlier. Her scythe doesn't seem to react to any of the corpses, meaning that their souls seem to have passed on peacefully - much to Alisya's relief. She utters a silent prayer to any kind of higher being, still considerate or benelovent enough to hear her, mostly directed at the lost lives and proceeds to move on. It is best to keep the dead undisturbed, after all. Walking another short distance from the trenches, Alisya finds herself looking at one of the many crudely built machine gun nest, with its entrance connected to the rest of the main tunnels. The nest looks to be abandoned of any equipment, most likely brought back to the large trench to be used in the defense.

With its dirt roof and floorings, it is no Royal Palace, but it is a shelter nonetheless. Alisya thinks for a few seconds on whether it is wise for her to stay in a place, so near to the trenches where all the soldiers fought at, where so much death happened, but multiple cracks of thunder in the distance is enough to give the final push the Princess needs to do her somewhat selfish actions. She climbs down to the trench and simply walks into the open door of the man-made dirt bunker, again still noting the absence of weapons or ammunition within it... with the exception of a single soldier's body, just laying unceremoniously, face first on the ground. Maybe a scout of sorts, proven from the lack of heavy duty gear the he is carrying, just a simple firearm for long-range combat.

A pretty peculiar place to die, but seeing how her chosen shelther is occupied by someone, Alisya thinks if she should move the body and give him a proper burial outside, or maybe that she is the one who should move away instead and let him rest in-

Alisya's grip on her scythe suddenly tightens when she sees the slumped figure twitch, not once, not twice, but a few times, and in rapid succession. Speaking of the blade, the cursed weapon of the Princess seems to slightly glow in an ominous violet, indicating that it was drawn to the soul of the fallen man.

He is alive. Maybe just barely, but still alive.

The scythe-wielding woman immediately approaches the man in haste, turning his body around face up to check on his condition. The soldier's face is ghastly pale and his body looks extremely malnourished, on closer inspection, she can see just how skeletal the man looks, the structure of his face is bony and reduced to just the shape of his skull, similar as to his fingers. His torso seems to have shrunk in size to the point that his uniform looks a few sizes too big on him. Sure enough, he is breathing. The air he takes are shallow and labored, and are not enough to keep him conscious, as he seems to be slipping in and out from the land of the living.

He also looks to be heavily injured, with the heavy and swelling bruises near his eyes, nose, and jaw. Most of his torso is also covered with deep cuts and more of those equally severe bruises, she even notes some more drips of fresh blood escaping from the open wounds and seeping into his woodland-camouflaged uniform, while his left leg, starting from his knee is completely bent to the side and it feels horrifyingly soft to touch, a prove enough that it's completely broken to the bone. The soldier starts to wheeze, whether from the pain or the struggle to catch more breath, Alisya doesn't know, but if there's anything else, she feels disgusted. Not at the man, but at the Gods for reducing someone to such a pathetic and pitiful state. Maybe they even left him alive as a sole survivor to humiliate him further.

Alisya notices that scythe starts to glow brighter at the sight of the soldier barely clinging to life. The blade ever hungers for more soul, and it makes its intentions clear enough by pulsing its violet light at the direction of the downed man.

Conflict starts to build up within the young Princess's heart. She could give him the quick and sweet release of death, maybe that's the least she could do to ease her loyal subject's pain, and after all, that's what her weapon also desires to keep it - and in an extend, Alisya herself alive and well. But this will be the first time that she will have to take another's life while she still has her conscience in a long-long time. Alisya stands back up and reaffirms the grip on her scythe, its blade raised high and ready to strike down on the soldier's neck, a swift end to his suffering. She takes several deep breaths, and once again, prays for anyone that could listen to her wishes for this man to be granted nothing but happiness in the next life.

...

A few more seconds pass, but the blade still hangs high. She can't do it.

Alisya can not take another life. She has seen enough death for one life, and killing another is too much for the Princess. Her grip falters, and she sets her scythe down. Instead, she bargains with her weapon to release enough of its own energy to keep the man alive. The cursed weapon obviously wouldn't agree to the demand, going as far as to autonomously jerk itself in the Princess's hand, urging her to make the kill. Alisya scowls at her scythe's persistence, but she resisted to follow its orders, even after receiving a light pulse of pain at the back of her head, a little show of force from the scythe's dark curse on its wielder.

The silent argument continues for more minutes, until Alisya decides on one thing - she infuses her own life energy upon the scythe before releasing its warm and radiating energy around the room, or as some of the Bariuran scientist and the military would call it a "_Brave Burst_", a show of one's incredible will to release and perform miracles or other potentially destructive or maybe even restorative powers, something that was first only exclusive to the Gods, hence the name. After injecting her will and desire to heal the soldier, the scythe follows her direction and focuses its violet light on the man. But instead of causing anymore damage, Alisya could see that the soldier's open wounds, slowly regenerating and starting to close up, his bruises somewhat deflating and the color on his body returning.

After a few more seconds of releasing her energy, Alisya collapses onto her knees, a price to pay for risking her own life to do such a show of force.

She shifts her tired purple eyes from the ground and onto the man's face, capturing the image of his consciousness slowly gathering back. The soldier's eyes twitches and with great effort, starts to crack open, revealing an innocent-looking pair of warm ember eyes. Their glances met, and the warmth that she could feel from his eyes then all but disappeared as they went wide as saucers, before narrowing into a dangerous and cold glare. Anxiety starts to kick in on the Princess, did something went wrong in the healing process? Did her scythe tampered with her Brave Burst, and instead only served to endager the man's life even further?

"...Princess... Alisya..." He croaks miserably, his voice still sounding shattered and broken, although his mind seems to be sound enough for her to recognize her identity. "...Please stay away... from me... you... you monster."

..._What_?


	2. Chapter 2

"Princess... Alisya... please, stay away from me... you... you monster."

_...What?_

Alisya does a double take at his sudden hostility. Was it something she said just now? Impossible, she hasn't even said so much as a single syllable. Was it her scythe? Also unlikely, all the radiated power from her Brave Burst came directly from her life energy, if her weapon'd intervened somehow, it would at least cause some damage to him. Unable to find anything to say, the Princess just silently watches the man, wide-eyed, as he gingerly tries to sit back up from his downed position, to no avail due to his broken leg, while his amber eyes snaps around the premises, before landing upon his weapon, a firearm as the scientists would say, an ingenious invention from the Red Army that enabled even the most common and inexperienced fighters to fight and kill effectively from safe distances away. The Kingdom even made sure to produce them cheap and en-masse, ensuring every able-bodied fighers can have a taste of its destructive power.

The soldier then groans in pain when his trembling hand makes contact with the ranged weapon, prompting Alice to step forward.

"Um... please don't force yourself to get up just yet," Alisya finally speaks up, her voice uncertain and edged with anxiety as the unstable man glares back at her. "I've tried healing your wounds but-"

"I said stay away, monster!" He screams shakily, snatching his scout rifle off the ground - securing it in his grip. He levels his weapon and aims directly at the Royal. "S-stay away! Killer! Убийцы! (_Ubiytsy!_ / Murderer!)"

Alisya can only step back, looking genuinely shocked and somewhat hurt at the countryman's terror. "Please, calm down!" She raises both of her arms, palms open and scythe just planted idly on the ground. "I... I'm not here to hurt you, so please, просто успокойся (_prosto uspooysya_ / just calm down), you'll reopen your wounds if you move your muscles to quickly like that-"

"Лжец! (_LZHETS!_ / LIAR!)" The soldier chokes, before his still frail arms finally fail him, and the rifle slips out from his fingers, slamming on the dirt ground with a soft '_thud_'. He then proceeds to just glare at her with fury and horror. "...Liar..." Repeats the man, the volume of his voice now considerably hushed and quieter. "...liar..." Cracks start to form on his composure, and a single sob escapes from his lips. The eighth daughter of the royal family can only stare at the man in pity as he gets progressively more broken, the single sob makes way for even more sobs, before tears start to form on the edges of his eyes. He mumbles something incoherently for a few moments, until finally the flood gates open.

The man begins to scream in anguish, crying as loud as he could as the rain begins its downpour just outside the bunker. He covers his face with his hands, continuing to weep uncontrollably. Alice couldn't risk getting close to the recently-wounded soldier, and internally, only prepared herself for another healing Brave Burst, just in case if the man starts thrashing - and starts thrashing he did - as best as his broken body allows him to anyway. He rolls into his side, not stopping in his cries that doesn't sound like he's in pain from his injuries, but rather as if he's being genuinely sorrowed by something. It only takes a few minutes before he even starts to throw up whatever substance or gasses left from within his bowels.

But the man just won't stop crying. He just continues to sob even as he lays within his own excreted puke.

Alisya is stunned, horrified by the soldier's monstrous cries. She can even feel her heart breaking inside from constantly hearing his screams of grief. Though slowly but surely, she stars to get the idea - this man's comrades were probably killed right in front of his eyes, as he was tortured by the Gods and Demons before being left for dead after those barbarians had their fill of violence. After all, the aftermath of the battle is seen just a few hundred meters away on the main trenches. The Princess just numbly waits for painful minutes, maybe hours before the man's wail slows down to just pathethic whimpers, and then until his movements cease completely, with his hands still placed over his face.

In slight panic, Alisya dares herself to cautiously approach the soldier to check up on him, her thin pale fingers slowly moving to touch his neck, checking for a pulse. A few weak beats here and there, but he's still alive at least. The Princess breathes out a sigh in relieve, and carefully removes his hands from shielding his face, it reveals an unconscious but at the same time, greatly distressed look, as if his terror is far from over, and only serves to torment him in his dreams. Sympathy washes over Alisya's conscience, and in one slow but mindful motion, she settles the scout's body to a more comfortable, upright sleeping position, whilst also making sure to stow his rifle on the ground near her scythe. She feels somewhat guilty to confiscate his weapon, but considering his psyche, perhaps it would be best after all.

Make no mistake, even when she's consumed by the insanity powered by her scythe, she was somewhat conscious of her actions, and the Princess has faced many horrors of the battlefield before. So far she's managed to take in all the depressing scenery of her own countrymen suffering and dying quite well, a rather worrying fact for Alisya. But this, she has never seen such cry of terror from a soldier of the once proud and glorious Red Army before. During the climax in their fight against the forces of Gods and Demons, the Grand Armed Forces of the Bariura Empire would face their deaths head on, showing not even the slightest hints of fear.

'_URA!_', they would valiantly yell out as men and women marched into their doom, a war cry that has no meaning in particular, but it has been the rallying scream of the army, something so loud, so brash, so brave and grandiose that it could shake the will of their opposing forces and bring them down to their knees before firing even a single shot or spell. Every citizen were... no, actually still are the protectors of the great Mount Bari, after all. They would make sure that the world knows of their presence and their fighting spirit. Somewhat fond memories of herself while she was still sane, Alisya would sometimes follow suit in shouting the Kingdom's infamous battle cry before laying her enemies to waste.

So... what happened to the Red Army's morale? More importantly, just what happened to this man in particular? What could've broken his spirit so much that he is reduced to just a terrified mess, crying like a baby after meeting maybe the first human in days? Is he even still sane? Alisya presses her lips together as she looks on the heavy rain outside. Howling winds and multiple thunder strikes seem to split the skies wide open, and while the dirt roof above them seems to be doing a pretty good job on absorbing the rain, she wonders if it can hold. Surviving all this time, only to get caved in a pile of dirt wouldn't be amusing in the slightest.

Alisya shivers lightly, night has arrived, and the storm has finally kicked in full force. The bunker is dry, but it is lacking any means to keep herself warm. The Princess sits down across the unconscious soldier, the feeling of damp soil on her pants. It isn't pleasant by any means, but she's not the one to complain. Her hands unconsciously shifts closer to hug herself tighter, while her knees curl up, making herself as small as possible, she then envelopes her own cloak around her body as means to warm herself, as insignificant and unsuccessful as it is. That is also before she notices that the soldier begins to twitch again for a few times.

His teeth starts to clatter in reflex, the color once again disappearing from his face and his exhaled breaths turning into icy fog. This is the moment Alisya realizes that she's not the only living being inside the bunker that is freezing. After giving it some thought for a minute or two, the scythe-wielder unbuttons her cloak from her neck and draps it over the young soldier's body, against her better judgement, thinking that he needs it more than she does. And that is quite true indeed. Alisya's cursed weapon would ensure that her master lives no matter what, but it's a different case when it comes to another individual. She leans back on her original sitting position after making an attempt in keeping the soldier warm.

Now faced against the harshest brunt of the freezing temperature, Alisya could only rely on her own body heat and her metal combat armor as means to keep herself from reaching hypothermia. Thankfully, she doesn't really have to think for long, as the exhaustion after walking miles and miles with no pause, and then using her own life force to power her Brave Burst seem to have caught up to her. Getting increasingly drowsy, the Princess gets comfortable by leaning back on the dry dirt wall behind her. And her mind begins to wonder about the soldier and his earlier words to her. The first words that came out of his mouth was to shoo her away in desperation.

"_Monster._"

"_Murderer._"

It aches her heart, and as much as she wants to keep those bad dreams from coming back tonight, those words are going to keep her guilt panging on her for days to come. In the end, Alisya Mikhailovna Bariura only closes her eyes and sadly mutters to no one in particular.

"Мне жаль. (_Mne zhal'._ / I'm sorry.)"


	3. Chapter 3

Alisya awakes to the sound of light rain, her purple eyes open, first seeing her own pale and stiff body, almost quite literally frozen solid from the cold last night. It's hard to even move her hands from hugging her body, and her thin armor isn't doing its job to keep her warm. Her breathing was rapid and instantly fogs up with every short exhale. The Princess shivers autonomously, her body reflexively doing its own movements - desperate to produce any kind of internal heat foer the girl. After a few attempts, her palms separate from her abdomen, which feels coarse and rough due to frozen ice particles that have formed during the night.

When she looks over to the side, just outside the gun emplacement, she witnesses that the thick cumulonimbus clouds have started to clear up, having already expanding their contents on the land, or just carrying their rain elsewhere. In its place, some soft hints of orange and yellow are starting their crawl upwards from the east. It is nearing sunrise. Examining her immediate premises further, Alisya stands back up and gently pokes up at the bunker's ceiling, the soil feels soft to touch, and as her finger makes contact with it, some of the absorbed water starts to leak, the cool trickle of water flowing down directly to her face. It feels rather refreshing, but also unpleasant. The last thing she needs is even more contact with the cold, she's even certain that the fact she's still alive right now is thanks to her scythe, keeping its energy flowing throughout the twilight to keep its wielder from dying.

Speaking of keeping someone from dying, Alisya finally releases her focus from the dull but strangely interesting trickle of gound water, and to the wounded soldier just right across the room, her cape still placed over his body, covering his torso, arms, and waist. The distress on his face seems to have vanished through the night, though he still looks somewhat uncomfortable - perhaps from the cold - for the most part though, the soldier looks peaceful in his slumber, something that Alisya envies a bit. The Princess is a light sleeper, and not by choice either. It was thanks to all of the nightmares and memories constantly popping up in her mind, and she knows that her curse as well as her bond with the scythe plays no small part in it.

Flashes of people screaming. People dying.

And...

"_Monster._"

"_Murderer._"

Alisya clutches her head, and squints her eyes shut again. Imagine meeting a living person for once, and then the first words that came out from them were those. She frowns at the memory of him his animosity towards her, his cold, death glare, then to his sudden outburst of anguish. It was a pitiful sight of a damaged man, physically and mentally. After a while, Alisya reopens her eyes to do a quick check up on the soldier and his body. She finds that the swollen bruises on his face have deflated somewhat, now only revealing the face of a pretty average-looking young man. His head is shaven clean, as is the standard for most members of the Red Army, though she can spot some hair slowly growing back, no mustache, no beard, a pretty narrow jawline - the standard for most of Bariura's people.

All in all, discounting his malnourished state and broken leg, he looks to be... painfully average. But somehow, that's what intrigues the Princess. All her life, it has been everything _but_ average, ever since the war broke out, the idea of normalcy was all but thrown out of the window. Ironically, the Gods's invasion of Bariura seemed to only bring out both the best and the worst of her Kingdom. The invention of the world's greatest weapons and other technological advancements. Firearms, mechanized vehicles, and long-range communication devices powered by short-range airwaves called radios were all invented during this time, all of them equally groundbreaking in their own right. There were also the experiments in the power of elements, even to the idea of crossing to other worlds and dimensions was made possible nearing the climax of the conflict. Well, those - and other more... inhumane ones.

The war also pushed Bariura to become heavily militarized and industrialized, factory and fortresses replace farms and gardens. Commisars and commanders roam the streets instead of teachers and other artisans. Martial law and other government-impsoed taxes to keep their war machines and experiments running eventually led to a nation-wide panic and drought. Unfortunately for them, by then, Bariura's land was already irrearable, its land becoming too polluted to sustain even the most basic of crops and its rivers simply becomes a flowing toxic waste from all the industry's spilled fuel and chemical. Supplies quickly dried up after all the fighting, and with no food, water, medicine, and later, even healthy capable people, Bariura fell into disarray.

The mightiest Kingdom of Grand Gaia was already failing even before the Gods began their siege on the Crown City, and while the Fatherland's fighting spirit was still high, people can only be fed off of propaganda for so much before it all finally snapped. There was no sugar-coating it. The Emperor and most of the Bariura's high officials as well as some few members of the royal family fled into another dimension, when the fighting in the capital started and her people faced slaughter. And that was the last transmission that came from the communication line - just the mass of people barging into the capital's central radio broadcast center, while screaming and begging for their lives as the unmistakable growls of the Demons closed in on them.

After that, silence. Either static filled the airwave, or just the random SOS messages that have been played on repeat for many, many months.

Alisya looks down at her own slim fingers as her thoughts stray to her own, and also her Kingdom's darker moments in life. Living a life of simplicity doesn't seem so bad of an idea after all she's been through. Looking at it now, maybe the worst has even yet to pass.

Her train of thought is stopped when she notices some movement from the Red Army personnel. His head sways from left to right, and his eyelids once more lift themselves up to make way for his radiant amber eyes. The man groans, his expression twisting to one of pain but that is understandable from the nature of his injuries. Alisya watches closely at the movement of his still misty and drowsy eyes, lacking of all the fury and hatred they stored so much the last time he was conscious. Now, they only remind her of that same warm and innocent orbs. If the circumstances were better, maybe she would even dare say that the scene looks a little bit amusing.

At first, the male occupant of the room looks confused when he looks at the rather elaborate black cape, trimmed with some violet and golden pattern. Something that looks so grand and expensive tells him that it only belongs to a royalty. He then looks slightly upward, witnessing a rather familiar face, one that he's seen through propaganda and announcement pictures, the face of a young woman with gentle features, her expression worrisome. One thing he notes immediately is her long, lush black hair, that was tied into a single side-ponytail, there's also her deep purple eyes that look so... strange, so... captivating, those orbs look like they could stare right through his soul. She wears a rather minimalistic but still elaborate armor, thin metal plates here and there to soften the blow from weapons, while still revealing a fair bit of her pale skin.

Alisya can't help but to return the analyzing glance of the soldier, maybe he hasn't fully woken up yet, for he is yet to show any hostility, but it is still unnerving - especially when he slowly examines her scant armor - the Princess could feel a hint of embarassment forming on the back of her head. Usually her cloak would be there to conceal her features, but seeing that it is not the case, she feels rather exposed, naked. Still, she tries to give him a - hopefully - better impression now. All of her muscles feel stiff after the cold night, but she tries her best to tug the edges of her lips upwards, forming a small and rather forced smile.

After realizing the identity of the woman, the soldier's eyes go slightly wider again, and his body jerks to sit upwards almost immediately. His breathing pace quickened, almost to an erratic pace and a deep, angry frown forms back on his face.

"Umm..." Alisya begins, her smile faltering after seeing his reaction, but feeling that it is too late to stop now, she continues. "...Доброе утро (_Dobroye utro_ / good morning). Are you... are you feeling a bit better?"

The soldier doesn't response, instead, his eyes keep trailing every bit of movement she makes.

"I, uh... saw that you were cold last night and I thought it could warm you up, even by just a bit," The Princess adds, her index finger slowly curling outwards to point at her cloak. Again, she receives no response. "You... were injured last night, I tried to heal you using my Brave Burst, but I think it would be best for you to stay still, at least just for a little while longer."

This time, the soldier cautiously examines his body, he throws the black cloak aside, rather too harshly in Alisya's opinion, but she doesn't make any comment on it. Making doubly sure at his recovery, the soldier then snaps his sights into his rifle, his weapon while also flashing Alisya his glare for every few seconds.

Alisya notices the gesture, and her head spins back to the wall behind her. There, a single rifle stands idly and out of reach from him. "Would you... would you like your weapon back?" She asks, her index finger now pointing backwards at the firearm. "You were thrashing around with it last night, so I feared that it could harm you," She explains as calmly as she could, she reaches for the weapon to give it back to its rightful owner. It is only now she realizes that for something that is only sized a portion of her gigantic scythe, the weapon still weighs somewhat heavy. "I'm... um, sorry for taking your firearm away, it's just that-"

Whatever she wanted to say is cut short as the man bends forward to snatch his rifle from the Princess's hand. Leaving her stunned by his sudden movement.

Alisya recoils a few steps back, her battle instinct screams at her to grab her scythe to defend herself, but not wanting to escalate the situation, she relents. So instead, she tries again. "Do... do you need anything else?"

The soldier, while keeping his weapon aimed at the young woman, now pivots slightly towards the leaking rain water from the roof of the bunker.

"Во-воды (_Vo-vodyl _/ Wa-water)?" She questions, again - realizing his intentions. "I... um... yes, I'll have them brought to you. So please, wait a moment."

And with that, Alisya turns around and cups the both of her palms to form a small concave, she then place them under the trickling flow of water, slowly filling it up. At the same time, the soldier is left somewhat confused. He was awakened to the sight of the infamous mad princess, who he remembers did nothing but slaughter both humans and Demons alike, all with a cruel and emotionless smile on her face. She was also the cause of the decimation of an entire battalion of Bariura's Red Army in the Northern Front, near the Grand Gaia crater - as the stories told him. But now, this Princess doesn't seem to be same one from the tales. She looks so... soft, so defenseless, yet at the same time, so brave. The woman didn't even flinch when being held at gunpoint for twice in a row.

Alisya then turns back to him, an amused but satisfied look on her face as she looks down at the handful of water. "Here... I'm not sure if rain water is safe for human consumption... but..." She trails off, offering her cupped hand to the soldier who was still silently staring.

The soldier looks at her, and then at the small pool water in her open palm. His glare then intensifies and begins to crawl, dragging his broken body and left leg across the room, with his weapon still in tow, going pass and ignoring the Princess entirely.

"W-wait, what are you doing?" Alisya asks her voice sounding confused and hurt.

Her purple eyes keep trailing at the man, as he slowly marches on to the source of trickling water, as the cool substance hit his face, he closes his eyes for just a few seconds, then opening them again, before he opens his mouth and just hungrily takes in large gulps of water into his system. He chokes and spits a few times, groaning bitterly as the dirt-flavored liquid entered his throat and burning his taste buds, but he kept going anyway - much to the astonishment and bewilderment of the royal scythe-wielder. After finishing his quote-enquote '_drink_', he flips his body around after crawling on his torso, now to sit back on his spine again, a challenging look present.

"Ground water... are usually safe to drink... at least that is what I'm told, Принцесса (_Printsessa_ / Princess) Alisya," He finally speaks up, venom still apparent on his voice, but sounding much more steady when compared to last night.

Alisya's purple eyes go wide as saucers, her palms dropping down, splashing some of the contained water on her body, and some other on the ground beneath them. Her mouth hangs open in a numbly fashion, until she finally closes it up. Both sides only continue to stare at the other in silence, one that ensues for a couple of minutes. Alas, Alisya was the first one to relent. Her eyes shrink back to its normal size and her lips once again form another small smile, one that looks much more genuine now, not even minding the ever-present death glare given to her by the nameless soldier in front of her.

"...Just Alice... is fine, пожалуйста (_pozhaluysta_ / please)."

Maybe, just maybe, things can finally slow down for once.


End file.
